


Lead Me On

by iceprinceofbelair



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: 1930s, Fluff, Gen, Pre-Captain America: The First Avenger, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, Swing Dancing, lindy hop
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-15
Updated: 2019-05-15
Packaged: 2020-03-05 21:31:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 689
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18837169
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iceprinceofbelair/pseuds/iceprinceofbelair
Summary: What Steve really means when he says "I don’t know how to dance" is "I don’t know how to lead." And that, ladies and gentlemen, is 100% the fault of one James Buchanan Barnes not letting him get any god damn practice.





	Lead Me On

Steve is a terrible dancer, or so he tells everyone. Bucky knows better. Sure, Steve will absolutely step on your feet at some point but that’s because he knows how to dance like he means it. Steve Rogers doesn’t go in for the waltz (though he’s passable) but he can shag with the best of them. What Steve really means when he says  _ I don’t know how to dance  _ is  _ I don’t know how to lead.  _ And that, ladies and gentlemen, is 100% the fault of one James Buchanan Barnes not letting him get any god damn practice. 

“C’mon, Stevie,” Bucky whines in his ear as Glenn Miller’s  _ In the Mood  _ starts playing on the wireless because  _ of course it does.  _ Bucky knows Steve can’t resist this song.

So they dance. They dance the lindy-hop and the Charleston and something that would be an offence to call a Jitterbug. Their tiny living room is sparsely furnished for precisely this reason with only the sofa and the wireless taking up any significant modicum of space so the room doubles as their own miniature dance hall. It’s a good thing they don’t keep anything breakable in there anymore because Bucky swings Steve around with so much gumpshion that he’d definitely have shattered all his Ma’s nice vases that she used to keep on the shelves. 

There’s something about dancing with Bucky, something special, that Steve can’t put into words. Maybe it’s because it’s the one time he doesn’t have to think about what’s coming next because Bucky is doing all the thinking for them. All Steve has to do is respond to the push and pull of Bucky’s body and, if Steve is being honest with himself, he’s always slotted right into Bucky’s arms like the hollows of his chest were carved out just for him. 

When a faster song comes on, Bucky abandons his tight lindy-hop triples for a swinging kick drop as he boomerangs Steve around like he weighs next to nothing. And Steve lets himself be led, content to close his eyes and trust that Bucky will guide him through. 

They keep dancing until Steve’s heartbeat starts to flutter painfully in time with his shallow breath and he has to sit down before his vision predictably blurs. Bucky collapses beside him on the sofa with a shit eating grin on his face, his own chest heaving.

“Thought you were gonna let me lead this time,” Steve pants, trying not to think too hard about the terrifyingly irregular thump of his heart.

Bucky smirks. “You’re just such a damn good follow, punk,” he shoots back, nudging Steve’s arm playfully. “Y’just slip right under my arm like a dame.”

Steve scowls but there’s no heat behind it. “S’no wonder no dame stays for more than one song.”

Bucky laughs brightly. “Well, maybe I want you all to myself,” he says and Steve knows he doesn’t mean anything queer by it even if he sometimes wishes otherwise. 

So, Steve rolls his eyes and lets his head drop onto Bucky’s shoulder with a winded sigh. “You’re lucky to have me, Barnes. No dame would put up with you for as long as my sorry ass has.”

Bucky hits him with a cushion. 

“You’re a real punk, Rogers,” he says but any scathing impact he’d been trying to have is lost in the way he lets his head fall back against the top of the sofa cushions, mouth hanging open with a contented sigh.

Steve’s eye roll, though impressive, is unfortunately lost.

“Wish we could go out dancin’ like that,” Bucky says, voice soft and fond. “We’d give all of Brooklyn a real show.”

Steve laughs, breathless and genuine. “Maybe if you didn’t have dames linin’ the block to dance with you, we’d get away with it.”

“They’d dance with you too if you gave ‘em a chance,” Bucky grumbles but it’s half-hearted. 

He doesn’t tell Steve that he hasn’t taught him to lead because he doesn’t want to stop dancing with him. Steve doesn’t tell Bucky that he doesn’t need to learn, that he’d dance with Bucky until the sun gave out.


End file.
